She Knew What I Do!
This poet after several attempts sadly killed herself in 1963. I found her work blurfing and am blown away how accurate her imagery matches what I do every day. I pride myself that news photographers NEVER rubberneck because we already know how bad it isn't or we stop to shoot. But we are professional rubberneckers just collecting the check. TV with its constant car wreck images can have a positive effect I am sure it does sometimes? Are you wearing your seatbelt?

Aftermath by Sylvia Plath

Compelled by calamity's magnet
They loiter and stare as if the house
Burnt-out were theirs, or as if they thought
Some scandal might any minute ooze
From a smoke-choked closet into light;
No deaths, no prodigious injuries
Glut these hunters after an old meat,
Blood-spoor of the austere tragedies.

Mother Medea in a green smock
Moves humbly as any housewife through
Her ruined apartments, taking stock
Of charred shoes, the sodden upholstery:
Cheated of the pyre and the rack,
The crowd sucks her last tear and turns away.
- posted by Jamie Cowen @ 8:26 PM